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The dragging ends of the poplar beams thumped against the cobblestones 








DONKEY BEADS 

A Tale of a Persian Donkey 

By 

ANNA RATZESBERGER 

W 

Author of 

JASMINE, CAMEL BELLS, etc. 



Pictures by 

KURT WIESE 


JUNIOR PRESS BOOKS 

alberTXwhitman 

& 4-CO 
CHICAGO 


1938 



COPYRIGHT 1938, BY ALBERT WHITMAN & COMPANY 










LITHOGRAPHED IN THE U. S. A. 


©Cl h 


1 1 9349 

' JUL 



)93ti 











THE RUNAWAY 


O LAGH was a little grey donkey that lived in Persia. Like 
many other little donkeys he had to work hard for his 
living. But Olagh didn’t like work. He was a vain, willful 
little donkey. He was proud of his grey coat and his small hoofs, 
but especially he was proud of his long stiff ears. 

“With fine handsome ears like mine,” he thought, “I ought to 
find the right kind of master, one who would appreciate me and 
treat me as I deserve, instead of piling heavy loads on my back and 
beating me all day long.” 


5 


Now the kind of master Olagh dreamed of was one who 
would tether him in the petunia bed, bathe him with rose water, 
feed him with alfalfa and barley and raisins, and load him with 
nothing heavier than a basket of wild tulips from the mountains. 

However, Olagh’s master was a man who supplied builders 
with the long poplar beams used to hold up the flat mud roofs of 
Persian houses. Every day Olagh had to carry these heavy logs 
of wood on his back, and sometimes his little legs almost snapped 
under the weight. 

Instead of sleeping in a bed of petunia blossoms, Olagh 
dreamed his midnight dreams in a cellar underneath his master’s 
house, together with the other donkeys His stall was a bare 
earthen floor with sharp rocks jutting out, that stuck into him 
when he lay down. And as for rose water baths, the only water 
that dampened his grey hairy sides was that which splashed on 
him as he forded a ditch or spring freshet, or the few raindrops 
that fell on him during the scant spring rains. 

True, his master did feed him alfalfa sometimes, but he got 
far more camel-thorn than sweet alfalfa, and only once did he 
ever taste a raisin. The master had been eating his lunch by the 
roadside, and dropped a fat brown raisin. Olagh found it. 

“That was good,” he said to himself as he rolled it around on 
his tongue. “I must have another.” And he nosed about in the 
dust. 

“So you got that raisin I dropped!” The master shouted at 
him. “Get back in the road and leave my food alone.” And he 
hit Olagh with his stick. 

Olagh trembled, and his eyes flashed. 

“The very first chance I get, I’ll run away and leave you,” he 
tried to say. But the only sound he made was a loud squeaky 
hee-haw. 


6 



Olagh dreamed his midnight dreams in a cellar 


The master finished his lunch, and loaded each donkey with 
a pair of heavy poplar beams. Down the mountainside they 
started, plodding along single file, far enough apart to let the 
heavy beams drag behind them. They reached the broad high¬ 
way that skirted the city walls. It was easier going on the level 
highway as the load did not pull down so heavily as on the sloping 
road. Where a narrow high-walled street led off from the main 
highway the donkeys turned, picking their way carefully. 

Clatter, bump! Clatter, bump! The dragging ends of the 
poplar beams thumped against the cobblestones and the street 
wall. One had to be careful in the city. Garden walls jutted out 
at unexpected corners, and sometimes a wide street narrowed so 
suddenly that there was not room for two carriages to pass 
abreast. Strings of donkeys often became tangled in braying con¬ 
fusion when they met in these narrow winding streets. 

It was nearly sunset when Olagh rounded a bend in the road 
and saw a carriage coming right ahead of him. Scared by the 
clatter of hoofs and wheels, he tried to turn. The long poplar 
beams he was carrying jammed between the walls on either side. 
He was caught. 

The carriage stopped just in time. The driver jumped out 
and began shouting at Olagh’s master. The donkeys became 
tangled with their awkward loads and started to bray and kick. 

“Son of a burnt father!’’ yelled the carriage driver. “Why 
have you let this clumsy beast stop my carriage? Can’t you keep 
the road clear for men of affairs?’’ 

“And you, whose grandmother resembled a monkey!’’ 
screamed the donkey owner. “Why do you drive at such speed 
that you terrify the simple, four-footed things? Now I must 
get help to dislodge the timbers and free the beast. If you stand 
there screaming at me, I will tell my story to the police and you 
shall pay for the help. Be off! Away with you!’’ 


8 





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"IT*y have you let this clumsy beast stop my carriage?” 









The carriage driver jumped to his seat, turned the horses 
around, and rattled down the street as fast as he had come. The 
master pushed and pulled and lifted. In the end he had to untie 
the ropes which fastened the timbers to Olagh’s back. Then the 
donkey scrambled up from the low step where he had fallen and 
was ready to go on. 

But one timber was still wedged fast against the street walls 
and the other donkeys were still crowded together. Olagh looked 
across the timber that barred the street. The master was trying 
to get the other animals into an orderly line while he waited for 
someone to come along and help him. 

“By the time he can crawl under the timber, I shall be far 
away,” thought the little donkey. “This is my chance! Goodbye, 
wicked master!” And he dashed down the street, around one bend 
after another, taking first one turn and then another, until he 
found himself in a strange part of the city. 

Here he stopped, pricked up his long, stiff ears and listened. 
Yes, the master was following him. Nearer and nearer came the 
sound of excited shouts. Olagh started down the street again. 
He saw an open gate. Inside was a beautiful garden of flowers 
and trees and rosebushes. He went in. 




And he dashed down the street 







A man whom he had not noticed was standing by the gate. 

“What’s this?” cried the man. He was not expecting a strange 
donkey to walk into his garden. 

Just then Olagh’s master came shouting down the street. 

“Donkey lost! Donkey lost! Who has seen my donkey?” 
he bellowed. He was in a hurry to find Olagh so he could get 
back to the other donkeys that he had left waiting. Olagh trem¬ 
bled when he thought of the beating he would receive. 

Quick as a wink, the man in the garden shut his gate and 
pushed the bolt. 

“So you’re a little runaway!” he said to Olagh, and smiled 
to himself. He stood there, staring at the donkey’s long, stiff 
ears, until the noise in the street had stopped and even the master’s 
footsteps could no longer be heard. 

Olagh wiggled his beautiful ears and blinked his eyes happily 
as he looked toward the petunia bed. He had worked hard all 
day and was tired and hungry. What a comfortable bed those 
sweet-smelling flowers would make! And they might taste 
good,too! 

Satisfied that the owner would not return, the new master, 
Bahram, led the little donkey to a half-underground stable above 
which the house was built, tossed him a few wisps of alfalfa, and 
shut the flimsy door. 

Olagh looked around. The stable was just like his old home, 
even to the rocks that stuck through the earthen floor! Wasn’t 
this new master going to let him sleep in the petunia bed after all? 
No, it seemed he was not. Olagh sadly chewed his alfalfa. What 
had been the use of running away? He had only exchanged an 
old master for a new one, and one bed of rocks for another. 

Creak! Crank! Creak! Crank! Olagh pricked up his ears 
and listened. The master was drawing water from the well and 


12 


the windlass creaked loudly as he wound the rope that drew up 
the bucket. The rose water bath at last! Olagh quivered with 
joy at the thought. 

But the new master merely opened the door, set down a square 
tin bucket of dirty, ill-smelling water, and went away again. After 
one taste of the water, Olagh turned away with a snort. 

“The master brings me dirty water to drink and not a drop 
of rose water for a bath; I cannot sleep among the petunias; my 
supper is alfalfa without a single grain of barley or a raisin! What 
kind of work will he expect me to do tomorrow? Shall I be 
disappointed in the basket of tulips, too? Perhaps the master 
will treat me better when he sees me by daylight and finds out how 
handsome I am.” 

The sun had barely lifted its chin above the skyline next 
morning when the new master opened the stable door and prodded 
Olagh to make him wake up. 

“Get up, you lazy runaway! We’re going on a long journey 
today.” 

“So the new master has noticed my beautiful stiff ears,” 
thought Olagh sleepily. “He’s going to take me out and show 
all his friends what a fine, handsome donkey I am! Perhaps we 
are going on a pleasure trip. Hee-haw! I shall have a splendid 
time!” 




II 

THE NECKLACE OF BLUE BEADS 

“Get up, I say. You lazy beast! If you eat my alfalfa, you 
must work for it.” 

Olagh did not like the man’s voice, and the stick was sharp. 
So he stood up, shook himself sleepily, and waited patiently while 
Bahram fitted carpet-strip harness on him and balanced a wooden 
frame on each side. 

“What can this be?” thought Olagh. “Are these crates to 
carry a basket of red tulips?” 


14 








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Foolish donkey! He did not know that the season for wild 
tulips had gone. He did not even know that the big earthen jars 
which Bahram placed in the crates were to carry clear drinking 
water from a mountain spring to the city. But he did like the long 
string of bright blue clay beads that Bahram fastened around his 
neck. 

“To keep off the Evil Eye!” Bahram muttered half to him¬ 
self. “I don’t want you to fall over the precipice, or run away, 
as you did yesterday.” 

Olagh craned his neck and turned his head to admire the 
beautiful blue beads. 

“What a handsome beast I am!” he said to himself. “I have 
always had beautiful ears, but with this new necklace I shall be 
the envy of every donkey on the road.” And when the master 
fastened a tiny, tinkling brass bell to the necklace, Olagh was 
vainer than ever. 

“Hee-haw! Hee-haw!” He brayed with joy. 

Bahram opened the street gate and Olagh proudly trotted 
out, ready for the long journey. Both man and donkey were 
afraid of meeting Olagh’s old master, but no one spoke to them 
in the streets except the baker who was hanging out sheets of thin, 
brown bread on his shop front. 

“Peace to you, Bahram!” the baker saluted his friend. “I 
thought you had quit work to go on a pilgrimage.” 

“With you be peace!” the water carrier replied. “So I had, 
but I find that I must work a little longer.” 

“God give you strength!” the baker shouted to Bahram, as 
man and donkey continued up the street. 

Up, up, up the mountainside Olagh climbed, his little brass 
bell tinkling merrily in the fresh morning air. High up the moun¬ 
tain he climbed, higher than he had ever gone for poplar beams. 


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The wide road became a narrow path, and then only a faint track 
on the stony slope, and still they met no admiring friends. 

Beside a great rock Bahram stopped. Olagh saw a pool of 
water that seemed to come from under the rock. The water was 
clear and bubbling. Along one side was a big patch of watercress. 
Olagh lowered his head to drink. Bahram struck him across the 
nose. 

"Stupid beast!" Bahram yelled. “Would you let my water 
jars slide to the ground and break into a thousand and one pieces?" 

Olagh backed away. Bahram lifted the water jars from the 
crates and set them in a row on the ground. Then he got down 
on his hands and knees and drank from the cool, bubbling spring. 

"Now, runaway! Have your drink," he said to the donkey. 
Olagh quickly put his mouth to the water and took a long drink. 
Then he took a big bite of the juicy, green watercress. 

"Almost as good as petunias!" he said to himself. “Perhaps 
I shall like this new life, after all." While Olagh took another 
mouthful of the watercress and nibbled the prickly camel-thorn 
that grew in scattered patches along the slope, Bahram sat down 
on a rock and ate his bread and cheese. Then he filled the jars 
with clear, cool water. 

Out of the corner of his eye Olagh watched Bahram and 
knew that he was ready to load the jars. But he still went on 
nibbling camel-thorn. Bahram walked over to the donkey and 
prodded him with a sharp little goad. 

Olagh leaped in the air. He had never felt a goad before. It 
hurt him and he squealed with pain. 

The master laughed. 

"You won’t play lazybones again, will you?” 

Olagh stood quietly while the jars were being placed in the 
crates, but he watched the master closely, afraid of the sharp goad. 


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Olagh backed away 






At last they were ready to start back to the city. Going down 
the steep path was difficult. The water jars were heavy and they 
pressed against his sides. When they reached the city streets, 
Bahram knocked on one gate after another until he had sold all 
the water. 

“So it was not a pleasure trip, after all,” Olagh thought sadly 
that night, “and I’ll have work every day, just as I did for the 
old master.” 

Day after day they climbed the mountain and filled the jars 
at the spring. Day after day they stopped at the same gates and 
sold the water. Olagh grew tired of going to the same places all 
the time. 

One day, while Olagh was nibbling his camel-thorn, Bahram 
climbed over the rocks to the top of a waterfall. He wanted to 
see what lay beyond. But the rocks were wet and slippery. 
Bahram slipped and hurt his leg. For a long time he lay on the 
rock with one foot in the water, twisting his face and clenching 
his hands in pain. Then he tried to get up and go to Olagh. He 
would ride home and leave the water jars until tomorrow. 

“Have patience!” Bahram called to the donkey, as he limped 
slowly toward the spring. But Olagh had already guessed what 
the master intended to do. 

“Oh, no!” Olagh said to himself. “You are much heavier 
than the water jars. I’ll never carry you nor any other man!” 
And the lazy donkey kicked his heels in the air and ran down the 
mountainside so fast that the rocks and stones rattled after him 
like a hailstorm. 

Poor Bahram! His leg hurt so badly that he could hardly 
walk and he had to limp along like a chicken on one foot. When 
at last he reached the city, it was already dark and men were 
carrrying lanterns in the street. 


20 



Olagh was nowhere to be seen. Bahram could not complain 
to the police, for the donkey was not his. 

So he limped homeward, saying, “Dirt on my head! It was 
I, instead of that beast, who should have worn the blue beads. 
Now I am crippled and my water jars are still on the mountain¬ 
side, and the donkey is gone! It is just what I deserve for trying 
to keep the lazy runaway!” 

And what had become of Olagh? He had run so fast that 
the wooden frame had fallen off and he was now burdened with 
only the carpet-strip harness and his beautiful necklace of blue 
beads and the brass bell. When he reached the broad highway 
at the edge of the city, he stopped still, not knowing which way 
to go. 




Ill 

MORE MASTERS 

While Olagh stood wondering on the highway, he saw two 
donkeys coming towards him. Their backs bulged with heavy 
loads but they trotted along nimbly, as if they were happy. 

“Hee-haw!” Olagh greeted them, while they were still a little 
distance off. And as they came nearer he looked at their driver to 
see what kind of master he was. 


22 



He saw two donkeys coming toward him 





The man was short and fat, and his face was round and 
smiling. Even the donkeys looked well fed. Olagh saw that they 
were laden with rugs—beautiful red and blue rugs with pretty 
flower designs printed all over them and twined in the borders. 

“Now I shouldn’t mind that,” thought Olagh to himself. 
“Maybe those flowers are petunias. I should like to carry a 
petunia rug on my back.” 

He looked more carefully still at the driver. 

“That man is fat,” he decided, “and so are his donkeys. I’m 
sure it is because they eat raisins. Who knows? Perhaps this is 
the very master for whom I have always been looking!” 

“Hee-haw!” he brayed. “Dear master, take little Olagh with 
you! I am such a fine donkey, your rugs will look more beautiful 
than ever on my back.” And there he stood, wiggling his long 
ears and tossing his head until the necklace of blue beads rattled 
and the little brass bell jingled loudly. 

“Ha, ha, ha!” The man stopped in the middle of the road 
and stood there laughing at Olagh until his sides shook. If he, 
too, had been wearing a bell, it would have jingled even louder 
than Olagh’s. 

Then he looked quickly up and down the road. It was still 
the hot part of the afternoon when most people stayed indoors. 
No one was in sight. 

“Now may I be blessed in Paradise!” the man chuckled to 
himself. “I am about to do a good deed. Here is a beast that has 
lost his master—or, I wonder—has he run away? Whichever it 
is, there’s no owner in sight. In fact, there’s no one in sight. The 
poor little beast will have nowhere to sleep tonight and no one 
to feed him. Surely I should take pity on him! Yes, I, Karim the 
Kind, although some call me Karim the Lazy, will take this little 
beast with his blue beads and his fine harness for my very own.” 


24 









'Now may I be blessed in Paradise!” the man chuckled 




Silly little Olagh came closer to the man and stretched out his 
neck to show himself off. 

“My long stiff ears—aren’t they beautiful?” he wanted to 
say. But all that came from his throat was a loud hee-haw. And 
the two rug-laden donkeys, thinking he was greeting them, replied 
with a chorus of hee-haws of their own. 

“Be silent,” the master commanded, “or I shall not be able to 
do this act of kindness. Here! Stand still, little stranger, while I 
fasten this big rug on your back. Now that you are almost cov¬ 
ered with rugs, no one will know whether you are black or white 
or brown.” 

“I’m grey! I’m grey! Can’t you see my grey ears?” Olagh 
wanted to tell him, but the man was talking to himself. 

“Ah, yes! This is luck for me,” he said. “When the rug 
merchant in the bazaar sees my rugs spread out over three animals 
instead of crowded on two, he will think I am indeed rich, and 
he won't dare to offer any but the highest prices for my rugs. 
Those blue beads around this beast’s neck may bring luck to me, 
too.” 


26 






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“I’m grey! I’m grey! Can’t you see my grey ears?” 


All the way to the bazaar Karim petted Olagh, hoping the 
little donkey would become fond of him and not try to run away. 
This made the other two donkeys very angry, and they tried to 
push Olagh against the mud wall that lined each side of the street. 

Karim only laughed. 

“What stupid animals I have!” he said. “They have the 
whole street to themselves and yet they all want to crowd over 
to one side.” 


* * 3ft * * 

Karim was really a kind master and Olagh was glad he had 
run away from the water carrier, even though it meant living in 
a village several miles outside the city. And what’s more, Karim 
was always eating raisins. And there must have been a hole in 
his pocket, for Olagh could find raisins lying somewhere in the 
garden almost any time he wanted to look. The new master may 
have been lazy in some ways, and he carried rugs to the city only 
when he needed money, but he always kept his animals clean, 
currying them often and even washing them when they became 
very dirty. 

“But not with rose water,” Olagh complained. “I should 
enjoy my bath so much more if it smelled sweet!” 

When the peddler had a load of rugs ready for the city, he 
folded them and threw them across the backs of the donkeys. 
The rugs were heavy and the country road was long. Sometimes 
Olagh thought his back would break. But once he reached the 
city, he marched proudly as he led the little procession along the 
narrow, crooked streets. For did not everyone stop to stare at 
him, to admire his beautiful blue beads and brass bell and his 
handsome big ears? Surely they did not stop just to look at a 
rug! 


28 





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Olagh soon found that the peddler spent most of his time in 
the village—either his own or a nearby village—and that they 
never remained in the city one single moment after the rugs were 
sold. This did not please the vain little donkey, for he wanted 
to be where there were a lot of people to admire him. The few 
villagers that he did see were busy in their vineyards, or the women 
were washing clothes in an irrigation stream and had no time to 
look. And those who were curious or lazy enough to watch Olagh 
and his procession passing along the road were so stupid they 
did not even know they were looking at a donkey with the most 
beautiful ears in the world. 


30 



The few villagers he did see were busy in their vineyards 


“Hee-haw!” Olagh groaned one night as he tried to settle 
himself comfortably against a rock in his bed. “No one appre¬ 
ciates me here. I think it is time to run away again!” 

But try as he might, the master was forever watching him, 
and he never found a chance to escape. Karim had always been 
afraid that the new donkey would run away again, and he decided 
that now was the time to do something. So he brushed Olagh 
carefully, put on the fine carpet harness, and even polished his 
brass bell. Then he opened the gate. 

“Hehhhh! he bawled harshly at the top of his voice, and 
urged the donkey into the street. 

“This at last is my day of triumph,” Olagh thought to him¬ 
self. “I look fine today and the master is taking me out alone. 
Hee-haw! Hee-haw! Make way for The Beautiful One!” 

Karim chuckled to himself at his plan, as he walked along 
the street. At the edge of the village he saw the butcher. Several 
sheep were in a nearby pen. 

“Peace to you!” Karim greeted the butcher. “You seem to 
be busy today. Now, me! My business is falling off since the 
days have grown colder.” 

“With you be peace!” the butcher replied. “Yes, I am busy 
today. I am getting ready to take some fresh meat to the city.” 

“So I see,” Karim answered. “And since you are so busy, 
you should have another donkey. I have very little rug business 
in the winter time and I want to get rid of one of my beasts. 
Come, friend, let us make a bargain.” 

Karim told the butcher how strong Olagh was and what a 
gentle disposition he had. But the butcher saw the old scars Olagh 
had received from his first master and decided that perhaps he 
was not such a gentle donkey, after all. 


32 


“And besides! Just see how fat he is! He must be very lazy!” 
the butcher shouted. He really intended to buy Olagh, but he 
wanted to buy him as cheaply as possible. At last the two men 
agreed on a price, and Karim walked away with the silver coins 
jingling in his pocket and a big grin on his face. 







IV 

WOLVES 

“He doesn’t even notice my ears,” Olagh thought bitterly, as 
the butcher put a halter on him and tied him fast. “All he thinks 
of is my strong back.” 

Poor Olagh! What a life he led now! First of all, the butcher 
took off the fine carpet harness. Then he filled two goatskin 
bags with fresh, raw meat and placed them on Olagh’s back. 
Another donkey was given the same kind of load, and away they 
all started for the city. 


34 








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butcher took off the fine carpet harness 









“Hehhhh!” bellowed the butcher, as he prodded them with a 
sharp stick. “Hurry up, there! I have to be in the city when the 
shops open, and I don’t want this meat to spoil on the way.’’ 

“Hee-haw yourself!” Olagh shrieked back at him. But the 
stick was very sharp, so he kicked up his heels and went running 
down the road so fast he almost lost the goatskin bags. 

Day after day they carried fresh meat to the city. Then the 
weather began to grow much colder, and Olagh opened his eyes 
one morning to find everything deeply covered with snow. 

“This is fine,” he thought. “I shall not have to carry meat 
today.” 

But, alas! the master cut up meat for the goatskin bags just 
as he had always done. Though the village was only a short 
distance from the city, the snow was so deep that Olagh could 
hardly walk. When they reached the city, they found the streets 
full of snow that had been shoveled from the flat housetops and 
the donkeys could hardly squeeze through the narrow passage¬ 
ways with their bulging bags. 

On their homeward way they had to walk so slowly that it 
was dark long before they reached the village. The butcher was 
frightened and kept urging the donkeys to go faster and faster. 

“It’s the wolves,” he said. “I am sure I see their yellow eyes 
shining in the dark. Hurry! Hurry! Or we shall be all eaten 
alive! They always come out when the snow is heavy!” 

Olagh felt sure that the blue beads would protect him from 
harm. But he hurried along as best he could so that the others 
should not leave him behind. 

That night, as he snuggled close to the other donkey to keep 
warm, he did some thinking. 

“Suppose the wolves did come! Would they try to bite my 
beautiful ears? Oh, I should weep if they tore off my ears! My 


36 



The snow was so deep that Olagh could hardly walk 





beauty would be gone forever. I must leave this place and return 
to the city.” 

The next time the butcher got ready to go to the city, Olagh 
looked longingly at his fine carpet-strip harness that hung from 
a peg on the wall. He would have liked to take it with him. 

“No,” he thought, “it is better to run away now and save 
my ears than to wait for some day when I am wearing my fine 
harness.” And he started sadly down the road. 

Once inside the city he began to plan his escape. His eyes 
shone eagerly as he thought of running away again. He must 
wait, he decided, until the bags had been taken off his back, so he 
could run faster. 


38 





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As soon as the meat was sold, Olagh began to watch for his 
chance. But the butcher stayed close behind the animals and Olagh 
began to think he would have to return to the village . . . and 
perhaps meet the hungry wolves . . . when suddenly— 

Thump! A man on a flat housetop close to the street threw 
a great shovelful of snow from his roof into the street. It landed 
right on top of the butcher and knocked him down. 

Olagh heard the sound and turned around. Here was his 
chance! Tossing his head in the air, he charged past the other 
donkey and ran as fast as he could through the narrow street. 
Then he turned a sharp bend and saw before him an open space 
with streets running in three directions. Which should be take? 

In one street the snow was piled so deep he knew he never 
could run fast, and in another a man was coming toward him, 
balancing a roll of bread on his head. Had Olagh ever seen that 
man before? He looked again. 

It was his first master, the one who sold poplar beams! 

What should he do? Olagh was sure he would be caught, 
with one master at his heels and another in front of him. But 
no, the man must have been thinking about his bread for supper, 
or perhaps some snowflakes blew in his eyes. Anyway, he did not 
see Olagh. 

So the little donkey ran down the third street as fast as his 
legs could carry him. But where should he go? He must hide 
from the butcher, who might now be looking for him. He looked 
at all the doorways along the street, hoping he could slip inside 
somewhere. But they were all shut tight. 

Olagh was just shoving his nose against a door to see if he 
could push it open, when he noticed a man squatting in the snow 
near by. The man was a dirty ragged beggar waiting for someone 
to give him a penny, but he might be able to help a poor runaway 


40 



Olagh heard the sound and turned around 









animal. Olagh went up to him and rubbed his cold nose against 
the man’s shoulder. 

“Ha! ha!” laughed the beggar. “Do I look like a donkey, 
that this beast should come up to me and mistake me for one of 
his friends? Ha! Ha!” And he laughed so loud that Olagh thought 
he was trying to say, “Hee-haw!” 

So Olagh answered with a soft little hee-haw and rubbed his 
nose against the man again. 

“Now, what are you doing here?” the beggar asked, when 
Olagh refused to go away. “Are you lost? No one seems to be 
coming along to look for you. Maybe you are a runaway. I have 
half a mind to keep you.” 

The beggar stood up and flapped the snow out of his rags. 
Olagh could now see how bony and dirty the man was. 


42 




“I have halj a mind to keep you.” 





“Oh, dear!” he thought. “I have made another mistake. 
This man will give me no barley or raisins. He certainly doesn’t 
smell like either rose water or petunias. I feel sure he has never 
had a bath himself, so I don’t suppose he will ever give me one!” 

Olagh decided to go farther down the street and try his luck 
with someone else. But the beggar seized him quickly and climbed 
on his back. The little donkey was so surprised he did not have 
time to run and, try as he might, he could not throw the man off. 

The rider kicked his heels into the donkey’s sides and hurried 
him along to a very poor part of the city. Olagh was so ashamed 
that he kept his head down and never once looked to see who 
might be passing. 

“The very idea!” he complained to himself. “A handsome 
beast like me having to carry that dirty bundle of rags! And 
there’s a man inside those rags, too. I have to carry a man on my 
back. Why, it was bad enough to carry water jars when I worked 
for Bahram. What I always wanted was to carry a basket of 
tulips, but this man is no tulip! Hee-haw!” 

A big tear rolled out of his eye and down his long, hairy nose. 
It stopped on his lip and froze there. 

At last they reached a very tiny gate. The beggar had to 
climb down before the donkey could squeeze through. 

“What a small garden,” Olagh thought with disgust. “Why, 
there isn’t room to have even one petunia here. They could never 
have a whole bed of flowers. I shall run away again tomorrow.” 

Yes, the garden was too small to have a bed of petunias, even 
if there had been no snow on the ground. There was not so much 
as a shed on the place. So the beggar took Olagh right into the 
house. It had only one room, in which the whole family lived. 

Olagh stared at the woman and babies just as much as they 
stared at him. 


44 







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“Well, well!” said the woman to her husband, “you must 
have been lucky today. Now we shall be as rich as the king!” 

“Yes,” replied the beggar. “We shall be rich, for I shall sell 
this donkey first thing tomorrow morning before his master comes 
to look for him.” 

Without a bite of supper, Olagh settled down for the night. 
Once he felt something pressing against his side and thought there 
must be a rock in the floor. But it was only the beggar, who had 
crawled over close to the donkey to keep warm. 

Next morning the beggar climbed onto Olagh’s back and rode 
down to the bazaar. Olagh tried again to throw him off and run 
away, but the beggar held tight. 

When they reached the Big Caravanserai, they went inside. 


46 




But it was only the beggar 







It was a large open building without a roof. Everywhere were 
boxes and bundles on the ground. Men were hurrying back and 
forth with papers in their hands. A string of donkeys stood in 
the middle of the place, waiting for someone to load them. 

A tall thin man, with a long Turkish towel wrapped around 
his neck to keep him warm, was carrying packages to the donkeys. 

The beggar led Olagh straight to this man. 

“Peace be with you!” the beggar said politely. 

“Peace!” the man replied and kept on working. I have no 
coins to give away.” 

The beggar drew himself up grandly, as if his rags were 
velvet and silk brocades. 

“I am not asking for alms,” he said. “I have something to 
sell, something that you can use.” And he pointed at Olagh. 

The man set down his bundles and looked at the little grey 
donkey. 

“Yes,” he said. “I could use another beast to carry bundles 
for the merchants. But I have no money to spare.” 

“I will sell cheap,” the beggar replied. “You are my first 
customer this morning.” 

Finally they agreed on a price. Olagh watched eagerly to see 
how much the man thought he was worth. With sharp eyes he 
saw the tall man lay two big silver coins in the beggar’s hand. 

“Hee-haw! Hee-haw!” he screamed angrily. He had been 
insulted. The man had paid only two coins for him, only two 
coins for a donkey with the most beautiful ears in the world! 
How Olagh hated that beggar! 

“May you be stung by a scorpion! May you be bitten by a 
thousand fleas!” he cried, but no one understood him. The beg¬ 
gar was hurrying away as fast as he could and all he heard was a 
loud, squeaky hee-haw. 


48 







V 

THE BEADS BRING LUCK AT LAST 
“Surely I am worth more than two coins,” Olagh thought 
angrily, and he waggled his ears and stretched his neck to try to 
get a better look at himself. “My ears are just as long as they 
always were and in this cold weather they have been stiffer than 
ever.” 

And the tall man was thinking, “Now, why did that man 
sell so cheaply? Did he steal this beast? Maybe I shall have 
trouble with the police.” 


50 



“Now, why did that man sell so cheaply?” 









He was right. While Olagh and the other donkeys were 
carrying bolts of new cloth to a merchant in the bazaar, the 
butcher and a policeman came to the Big Caravanserai looking 
for a donkey with long, grey ears. 

Olagh was not there when they came, and the men who were 
working there had been too busy to notice the beggar selling a 
donkey to one of the porters. So the butcher and policeman went 
away to search elsewhere in the city. 

After the beggar had sold Olagh, he returned to his corner 
on the street and crouched down to wait for some one to give 
him a penny. Once he took out the two coins and looked at them. 
Just then a policeman came along and saw the two big coins. He 
knew that beggars did not receive so much money as that from the 
kind-hearted people who passed by, so he took the man to jail. 

As for Olagh, he was happy to live in the city again. 

“My beautiful long ears are safe now,’’ he told himself. “The 
wolves won’t come into the city—especially among the shops— 
and that seems to be where my new master works. Once more 
the blue beads have kept ofF the Evil Eye, for I should not have 
liked to return to the village with the butcher.’’ 

He thought it was great fun to stand idly in the Big Caravan¬ 
serai and watch the camels come swinging in through the gate 
with loads of new cloth and sugar, colored paper and soap and 
perfume—with all kinds of things from foreign lands. It would 
soon be New Year’s, the first day of spring, and the merchants 
were filling their shops with cloth for new dresses and suits; and 
with dishes and glasses and food for all the parties that people 
would give during the big holiday. 

Soon came New Year’s—ten days to celebrate the beginning 
of the new year. The master put big splashes of henna stain on 
all his donkeys. Olagh was a light grey and the patches of red- 


52 






dish brown stain looked beautiful on him. On every donkey's 
tail was tied a bunch of paper flowers. Olagh's flowers were blue 
and yellow, to match his blue beads and brass bell. Some of the 
other donkeys wore paper flowers of red and purple and pink, 
but Olagh was the most splendid of them all. 

After New Year’s had passed, the air grew warmer. One day 
Olagh saw a man driving a donkey through the streets with a 
basketful of bright red tulips. The sight of the tulips gave Olagh 
spring fever. 


54 




Some of the other donkeys wore paper flowers 


“Hee-haw!” he cried. “That is what I have always wanted 
to do—to go up the mountainside and get wild flowers. How I 
should like to carry a basketful of flowers through the street and 
have everyone stop to admire me!” 

For several days he had been watching the master, wondering 
whether he would lay out any petunia beds in the big garden 
where all the donkeys stayed at night. Most people had big beds 
of flowers in their gardens, but this man never planted any. Per¬ 
haps he thought that the donkeys would eat his flowers. 

So once more Olagh began to think about running away. 

“The wolves won't bother me now, and my ears will be safe. 
Perhaps I can find that man with the tulips and he will let me 
carry his basket of flowers.” 

But he was not so lucky as he had been and could not find a 
chance to run away. The days grew longer and warmer, the wild 
tulips on the mountainside must have dried up long ago, and still 
Olagh had not escaped. As he went about his work each day, he 
sometimes passed gardens where he could smell the sweet-scented 
petunias already in bloom. 

“Hee-haw! Hee-haw!” he shrieked one day. “Why must I 
always carry ugly bundles and sleep on the hard ground when 
there is a bed of petunias waiting somewhere for me?” 

All that day he watched the master closely. It was a very hot 
day and the master became tired. Early in the afternoon, long 
before sunset, the man quit work and drove his donkeys home¬ 
ward. Olagh happened to be at the end of the procession. The 
master opened the gate and walked ahead into the garden. The 
donkeys followed him in—all but Olagh. He quietly picked his 
way over the cobblestones so the master would not hear him. After 
he had passed a bend in the street, he stopped to listen. 

He heard the master come out of the gate, shout for him, and 


56 



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start up the street in the other direction. Then Olagh quietly 
walked along until he came to another bend in the street. 

This time he came to a broad open space. A big mosque 
stood on one side and many people were going in to say their 
evening prayers. Olagh did not stop to watch them. He began 
to hurry, in case his master might turn around and come the other 
way. He started up a narrow street and there met a mullah, or 
priest, who was walking to the mosque for sunset prayers. 

Seeing Olagh, the mullah exclaimed, “Mashallahl Wonder¬ 
ful! What have we here, a donkey without a master? Then 
clearly the little beast belongs to the Church and I will take him 
for my own use.” 


58 






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Olagh wiggled his ears at the stranger as much as to say, “See 
what tall, stiff ears I have! Wouldn’t you like to be my new 
master?” 

The mullah looked up the street. No one was in sight. He 
seized the donkey firmly and climbed on his back. 

“Hee-haw! Hee-haw!” Olagh screamed and tried to throw 
the rider off. “I’d rather carry water jars or bundles of cloth or 
rugs than a man.” 

But the mullah clung tightly and presently Olagh stopped 
kicking. When they reached the mosque, the mullah led the 
donkey to a courtyard and tied him to a window. 

After the people had said their prayers standing, kneeling, 
and bowing down to the ground, the mullah came out climbed 
on Olagh once more. He sat stiff and straight and carried his 
walking stick in one hand. In the street they stopped while the 
mullah bought a penny's worth of raisins from an old man who 
squatted beside his basket on the cobblestones. The old man 
spilled his raisins and Olagh ate a half dozen before anyone could 
stop him. He was certainly a greedy donkey. 

As the mullah rode homeward, Olagh sniffed the air. His 
nostrils quivered. 

“Rose water! It is rose water I smell. This new master of 
mine uses so much rose water on himself that I too shall smell 
sweet!” 

At his own gate the mullah dismounted, and led Olagh 
through. He looked about the garden and frowned. 

“There is no place for the beast to sleep tonight. He will have 
to stand in the garden under the almond tree.” 

Then he went indoors, where his tea was already steaming on 
the samovar. 

In the garden it was dark. But Olagh’s eyes were sharp. Not 


60 



Olagh ate a half dozen 




far from the almond tree he saw a bed of purple and white 
petunias. 

So a part of his wish at least had come true! 

There in the soft dusk he stood and thought drowsily over 
all the many things that had happened to him. He felt very 
contented. 

“It was perhaps wicked for me to run away and leave my 
masters,” he decided. “Some of them were good to me. One of 
them—Bahram—was hurt, and I ran away and left him on the 
mountainside. I always wanted to carry a basket of tulips, and 
now I am being punished by having to carry a man. I thought 
I would never carry a man, and now I shall have to carry him 
every day. 

“But I shan't mind that, after all. The blue beads really have 
brought me luck. I had raisins for my supper tonight, my master 
uses so much rose water that I shall smell like a flower, and 
tonight —tonight I shall lie down and sleep in the petunia bed!” 


62 







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